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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369005">D'You Have A Car?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShySpaceBoy/pseuds/ShySpaceBoy'>ShySpaceBoy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dan Vs.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Miscommunication, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Ideation, T for swearing and all that, Trans Dan Mandel, Trans Male Character, as usual, as with my futurama fic can be read as gen or not, basically just. cartoons but make it FEELINGS, because i make the rules :), not explicitly stated but you know how i be writing, not too bad but emetephobia warning, or not an au i guess but a flashback, title based on a song by SWMRS, vent fic, where do i even begin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:56:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShySpaceBoy/pseuds/ShySpaceBoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan needed a ride, and Chris had a set of keys. Somehow, it worked out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Mandel &amp; Chris Pearson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>D'You Have A Car?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm cringe but at least... I'm free</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chris never lied to himself about being one of those kids that studies on a Sunday night. </p>
<p>He might tell his parents that he needed to study in order to get out of doing dishes after dinner, but in actuality, he was doing absolutely nothing in the last few hours of the weekend. That was exactly how he liked it. </p>
<p>No expectations, no interruptions, just pure Chris-time. He was lucky to have established the habit; All he had to do was say goodnight and slink upstairs around five or six, and he was free of distractions for the rest of the evening. There was hardly another day like it, where he could get away with that sort of thing. It was important that he got some uninterrupted downtime before the next school week had a chance to exhaust him, and Saturdays were usually the more occupied days of the weekend. </p>
<p>His time was especially precious right now, in that final, long stretch before the spring sports season started up. Although he didn’t make the cut for track, and last year he was stuck as the waterboy for the football team, he always tried out for some sport or team or <em>something</em>. He’d try his hand at anything, really, whatever seemed fun and fulfilling to his aching need for camaraderie. Landing any permanent role in a social group was the best he could do, second to finally getting elected to be the school mascot of course, which he didn’t think he’d manage any time soon. Whatever he’d end up doing, it was always a surprise, but it would undoubtedly eat up his much needed alone time, and he didn’t want to deal with that until he absolutely had to.  </p>
<p>Chris pushed every thought about school and extracurriculars out of his head as he closed the door to his room behind him. All he really needed right now was to lay upside down on his bed and watch TV, hopefully with a bag of chips nearby. He had a stash of snacks and sweets in the extra storage of his captain bed, in the one drawer closest to his headboard. He wasn’t supposed to eat in his room, technically, but his parents had given up on that rule a long time ago, abandoning enforcing it somewhere around middle school. He just had to be careful not to get crumbs in the carpet, since it was such a pain to clean. </p>
<p>Chris flicked on the TV as he passed by it, rounding the corner of the bed. He flopped down onto his back, eyes already glued to the screen. He threw his arm over the side of his bed, groping around for the knob of the drawer containing his hidden treasure trove of junk food. He perked up as his hand bumped a half-empty liter of flat soda he’d forgotten was there. It sloshed over and rolled out of his grip. His hand followed, straining his arm as he kept unintentionally bumping it further away. He grumbled to himself, begrudgingly scooting as far as he could off the side of the bed without actually getting up.</p>
<p>He stretched as hard as he could, fingertips just grazing the plastic cap of the bottle. Triumphant, he spun it towards him, almost perfectly into his palm, and-</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>BRRRRING!</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Chris went crashing down to the floor as his phone went off on his nightstand, just inches away from his head. He slammed nose first into shag carpeting that dragged against his face like sandpaper, and banged his elbow hard on the way. He scrambled to get up as his phone continued blaring. Who the hell was calling him right now? And since when was the ringer set to be so loud?</p>
<p>His hands finally wrapped around it, and, still on the floor, he brought the screen closer to his face. His eyes skimmed across the number, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the all too familiar digits.</p>
<p>“<em>Dan.</em>” He groaned outwardly. </p>
<p>There was only one potential monkey wrench that could unexpectedly fly out of nowhere and wreck his Sunday alone time, and that monkey wrench was a greasy little fireball named Dan. Chris supposed this is what he gets for having a notoriously unpredictable wild card as his closest friend, but he decided he was allowed to be disgruntled about it anyways. Dan had an astounding talent for calling at the most inopportune times, and for the most inconveniencing things. Of course he’d be the one calling right now.</p>
<p>Chris swiftly accepted the call, praying it wasn’t going to be anything that required him to get up. He was getting well acquainted with the floor at this point, and wasn’t very inclined to leave soon. To his surprise, Dan’s voice didn’t explode through the receiver, guns blazing. In fact, Chris didn’t hear anything on the other end. </p>
<p>“Hello? Dan?” He called, but to no response. It was almost unnerving. Dan wasn’t the type to butt-dial, or call without what he believed to be pressingly urgent matters. </p>
<p>Just as Chris was about to cautiously hang up, a long staggering breath faintly reached his ears. He stared in surprise for a moment at his phone, wondering if he read the number right. He read it over again. It was Dan for sure. He pulled himself up off the carpet, leaning his back against his nightstand. He warily brought it back to his ear, bracing himself still for a passionate, colorful tirade typical of his friend. </p>
<p>“Dan? Are you there?” He asked again. </p>
<p>“<em>Chris.</em>” Dan’s voice hissed, nearly inaudible through the crackle of the speaker. “Pick me up.” </p>
<p>Chris covered the receiver with his hand and sighed heavily. What a surprise. Dan was the only one of his friends who still couldn’t drive, but still always had somewhere to be.</p>
<p>“Dan, it’s a school night.” He protested. “Why?” </p>
<p>“Chris.” He repeated, slowly. “Pick. Me. Up.” He enunciated each word slowly and carefully, like they were words Chris had never heard before. He’d be insulted, as is usually appropriate, but something was amiss here. </p>
<p>This wasn’t like Dan. Well, the sour attitude was most <em>certainly</em> like Dan, but what wasn’t Dan-like was the ominous withholding of information. Chris got a detailed and carefully worded description of exactly what’s wronged Dan and how the very instant he picked up a phone call from him. He found that it was when he wouldn’t actually say what was wrong- which was a rare instance, even when he was trying (and failing) to be sneaky- that was when there was real cause for worry. Well, to be fair,  Chris always worried regardless, and he usually did have a reason to, actually. This was just a different level of worry. </p>
<p>Less of an <em>I’m-going-to-put-live-mice-in-some-jerk’s-locker</em> situation, and more of a personal crisis-type situation, which Dan would never be so up front about, unlike how he was with pretty much everything else. Having known him for years, Chris understood first-hand that <em>Dan</em> and <em>personal</em> was a match made in hell.</p>
<p>“Fine, fine.” He relented, head already swimming with bad possibilities. ”Where are you?”</p>
<p>“You’ll see me.” Dan replied cryptically. “Hurry up.”</p>
<p>“Dan, what does that even mean?” He griped, but all he was met with was a dial tone.</p>
<p>He sighed, lifting himself off the floor and ignoring the dull ache in his joints from the fall he just had. In his heart he already knew what to do, and his gut had long since made the decision, but his head still whispered to him treacherous frustrations, tugging irritatingly at him from his subconscious. It felt like he was always the one sticking his neck out for Dan, and a distant, naive part of him kept asking why. The answer was hidden somewhere in him rushing down the stairs, praying his mom won’t ask too many questions about why he needs the keys to her minivan. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Despite the complete absurdity of that previous statement, Chris <em>did</em> see Dan. He turned the corner about a block away from the street Dan lived on, squinting through the blinding barrage of the low hanging sun, and saw a lone figure loitering in the empty, run down park most people avoided. Who else could it be but Dan, dressed in ratty black hand-me-downs, small frame hunched against a chain link fence, kicking dust around impatiently.</p>
<p>Chris instinctively threw a worried glance over his own shoulder, hoping he too was alone. He couldn’t help but grip the steering wheel a little too tight as the misgivings swirling around in his head got louder. All he needed was another addition to the ever growing list of suspicious looking things he ended up being part of by proxy to Dan. Standing alone in a park with a black hoodie tightly tied to hide your face is not a welcoming sight to most park goers, or law enforcement. <em>Especially</em> law enforcement, actually, and they both knew it was one more false step before Dan landed himself in juvie, and Chris could only get away with being involved by accident so many times. He had a pretty clean record, and he loathed to think of the disappointed look in his mom’s eyes if that were to change. </p>
<p>He pulled into the patch of gravel on the other side of the fence that only barely passed as a parking lot. The car barely stopped moving before Dan had already reached him. Chris turned his head just in time to see Dan climb in and slam the door shut unceremoniously behind him.</p>
<p>Dan didn’t say a word, didn’t even turn his head a fraction look at Chris. He kept his head down and away as he kicked his feet up onto the dashboard and buckled himself in. Chris bit his lip to keep from frowning, even though Dan wouldn’t even see it if he did. His holey black sneakers were muddy, leaving filthy prints across the glovebox. Chris’ mom wasn’t going to be happy about that.</p>
<p>Chris blinked at him, fumbling with what to say. Dan and silence were hardly ever in one place at the same time, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t catch him a little off guard. Sure, he’d been quiet over the phone, but once they were alone in the car together he expected Dan’s usual greeting of shrieking like a banshee two inches from his ears. He swallowed, brain bogged down by half-formed thoughts, the air between them filled only by the hum of the engine. </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Dan snapped, jolting him out of his daze. Chris’ head whipped around, expecting to be met with a cold, sharp stare, but Dan still wasn’t looking at him.</p>
<p>“Drive.” He demanded, waving a hand dismissively. He pulled his legs up onto the nice white seats, adding more insult to injury, hugging them tightly to his chest and staring pointedly out the window. </p>
<p>Chris scowled, peering at the back of his head, as though he would somehow be able to feel it if he stared hard enough. “Where, Dan? You didn’t tell me we were supposed to be going somewhere. You didn’t tell me anything at all, in fact.” </p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter, just move.” He grunted, shoulders sagging. </p>
<p>Chris begrudgingly put the car in drive, determined not to let this drop. Aiming his eyes tightly forward on the road, he straightened his posture.</p>
<p>“Can we talk about this? Like, why I’m here?” He demanded, as firmly as he could muster. “I’m not an accessory to anything, am I?”</p>
<p>“Back off.” Dan growled, bristling like a mean little dog. He tapped his knuckles distractingly against the handle of the door. Chris wouldn’t be surprised if that was the intended effect, but the glimpse he got of the outlines of Dan’s limbs beneath his clothes were rigid and anxious, tipping him off that it might be a nervous tic. Dan always got disproportionately irate when other people fidgeted and made noise by tapping or unthinkingly clicking their pen, but he never seemed to realize how often he did it himself. His sneakers squeaked wetly against the leather seats, and Chris wondered if he was doing that leg-bouncing thing he claimed he never did. He swallowed, having the wisdom to tread lightly, but keep treading nonetheless. </p>
<p>“I’m serious.” Chris insisted, standing his ground. “What did you do?”</p>
<p>The eerie silence from before made another appearance. He snuck a careful look at Dan at the next stoplight, remembering to keep his hands at ten and two, as though that would make up for taking his eyes clean off the road. Dan’s shoulders were hunched low and tight, and all he could clearly see of his head were how red his ears were against the few greasy black locks of hair poking out of the hoodie. Plus, he was absolutely doing the leg bouncing thing.</p>
<p>“Y’know, I’d love to know what I did. I really would.” Dan grumbled miserably, vitriol deflating. “Just drive.”</p>
<p>“I’m not your chauffeur, Dan.” Chris sighed, exasperated. “Why did you call me, of all people, anyways? We have school tomorrow, and my mom is already worried about how much time I spend with you. She doesn’t like that you don’t pay for gas.” </p>
<p>“I’ve got grass or ass, if your mother would prefer alternative payment.” He snarked dryly. </p>
<p>“Dan, I can’t believe you.” He scoffed, patience wearing thin. His eyes flickered to the fuel gauge instinctively, and then widened once Dan’s words registered.</p>
<p>“Wait, you’re not carrying right now, are you?” Chris blurted, his already shaky confidence dissipating in an instant. “Oh my god, did you just get back from a drug deal, or something? I can’t get caught with something like that in here, my mom will <em>kill</em> me! Then there’ll be no way for me to get on the team, and my dad will take my keys-” </p>
<p>“I’m joking, you numbskull!” Dan swiftly cut him off. “I’m not carrying. And if I don’t have money for gas, what makes you think I have money for pot?”</p>
<p>“I just assumed you were skimping. Especially considering you think you can phone me at any time of day and I’d be at your beck and call.”</p>
<p>Dan huffed out a breath, fogging up the passenger’s side window. “Why can’t you just trust me?” </p>
<p>“You know damn well why.” Chris mumbled, a little reluctantly. “I really want to trust you. You know that.”</p>
<p>Silence descended again. It was almost spooky how closed off Dan was being. Well, he was always closed off in a sense, but he wasn’t so… quiet. Dread creeped up into Chris’ chest the longer they drove in unbroken silence. He wondered if this would end up burned into his mind as the last moments before he learned something awful and life changing had happened. </p>
<p>There was always a horrible nagging fear in the back of Chris’ head, a fear that came with every unsettling encounter he had with Dan that one day, it would end up being his last memory of him altogether. It was irrational to assume that Dan would just up and vanish one day, and he couldn’t even remember when the thought originally weaseled its way in, but he hardly questioned it anymore. It was just a part of the mechanisms in his brain now, anxiously firing up at the first signs of distress. He just hoped that when it happened it would be a nice memory, not this cold charged silence, driving in circles to nowhere.  </p>
<p>Chris was the first to speak up, and he almost startled himself at the sound of his own voice. </p>
<p>“Are you going to do this the whole time?” He asked, hating the desperation that bleed so obviously through his words. “I want to know why I’m here Dan, or I’m gonna go home.”</p>
<p> Dan childishly crossed his arms and rolled his head back. “Fine then.”</p>
<p>“And I’m <em>not</em> taking you with me.” He asserted.</p>
<p>Despite the threat, he didn’t turn the car around. He wasn’t sure if Dan was paying any attention to where they were going, or at least not enough to notice, but that probably didn’t make any difference. He was pretty good at calling Chris’ bluffs, even before Chris realized he was bluffing. </p>
<p>“Can’t you just spit it out? You want me to stop bothering you? Then tell me.” Chris pestered.</p>
<p>“Chris, have you ever heard of a little thing called boundaries?” He snarled, the familiar bite of animosity rising up his throat. </p>
<p>“Boundaries? You know what crosses boundaries?” Chris shot back. “Calling me up at random to drive you nowhere without any good reason. Especially when the sun is almost down, and I already had dinner and stuff. I was literally right about to lay down when you called-”</p>
<p>“Stop the car.” Dan said quickly. </p>
<p>“No! Don’t change the subject. I demand to know what-”</p>
<p>“Chris, stop the car.” Dan gasped, pained and suddenly breathless. Chris shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked together. He took the next turn, not really caring where it led, just seeing a large, nondescript building with a parking lot attached. </p>
<p>Dan shrunk in the passenger's seat, clutching his knees to his chest as Christ jerkily pulled the car into the nearest parking space. </p>
<p>“Dan, what...?” He put the car in park and looked over to his friend, but Dan was already out of the vehicle. He didn’t bother to close the car door, he just dropped down to his knees, facing the pavement, and groaned heavily. </p>
<p>Chris hurriedly left his seat, circling around the car to where Dan was. The hood of his sweatshirt was down now, at least, but his greasy mop of black hair flopped down in front of his face, blocking it from Chris’ view. His jeans were soaked and muddy in random spots, not helped by his current position of shakily squatting halfway in a puddle of grimy rainwater.</p>
<p>“Dan, what’s going on?” He asked worriedly, alarm rapidly rising within him. </p>
<p>“Carsick.” He croaked.</p>
<p>That’s not what he meant, but it was the first legitimate answer of the evening, so he took it. Chris sighed and kneeled across from him, careful to both give Dan space and keep himself dry. It had been raining off and on all day, powerful sheets of water and wind that would vanish just as fast as they’d come. He watched the back of Dan’s head teeter slightly back and forth, silhouetted against the brilliant colors of the rapidly fading golden hour, his pale white knuckles gripping the sleeves of his hoodie. Chris distantly wondered if it would make it better or worse to reach out and touch his shoulder.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna throw up.” Dan announced bluntly, breathing strained and erratic. </p>
<p>Chris swallowed and instinctively lifted his hands, but they just hovered there, not really knowing what to do. “O-okay. Can I help?”</p>
<p>Dan said nothing. Instead, he wrestled off his hoodie and threw it to the side, and Chris got a quick, fleeting look at his face. </p>
<p>A flash of bloodshot eyes made his heart leap into his throat. His first panicked thought was that Dan had up and lied about being sober, but then he saw the shine of tears streaking down Dan’s face, and his heart plummeted back down into his gut like a sack of bricks. Dan curled in himself, withdrawing into a tight ball again like he had in the car, hair sagging miserably in his face.</p>
<p>“Dan… something happened.” Chris began slowly. He was at a loss for what to say, and also, in a way, of what to feel. Instincts twitched in his fingers to reach out and wrap him in a tight hug, but his better judgement kept them firmly at his sides. Dan was fickle and distant, touchy even on his better days. At a bad time, unforeseen physical contact could end with a panicked blow to the face. Now especially did not seem like a good time to poke the bear, but Chris’ skin was simmering with a message words couldn’t properly deliver.</p>
<p>“<em>Obviously</em> something happened.” Dan heaved bitterly. He braced his pale, blemish-riddled arms in front of him, and without cover from the hoodie sleeves Chris could see just how badly he was shaking. It felt like a punch to the gut. Dan showing vulnerability was like looking into the pleading eyes of a wounded racoon on the side of the road. Chris felt like an ass just sitting there and gawking. </p>
<p>“Can you please tell me what it is?” He asked softly.</p>
<p>Dan side-eyed him, something between discomfort and disgust flickering across his face at his tone. He sucked in a few more gasping breaths.</p>
<p>“I got kicked out.” He spat, eyes narrowing at the pavement below. </p>
<p>“Oh. Is that… all that happened?” Chris coaxed, careful not to sound dismissive.</p>
<p>It wasn’t rare at all for Dan to be forced out for the night. It made Chris’ blood boil to think about, but there was no argument to be had that could fix things. Dan claimed his folks were ‘old-fashioned’, that's all. They believed in discipline, and Dan was one of those unfortunate sorts who was always in dire need of correction. Chris couldn’t help but feel offended every time he heard it, and he heard it quite often. It was a sorry, thread-bare excuse, he knew, but still he couldn’t help but think of his sweet old grandmother, truly the most old-fashioned woman he knew. She couldn’t hurt a fly if she tried, and wouldn’t dream of ever letting a child or grandchild go without an afternoon snack, let alone leaving them without a bed to sleep in. It was a fat load, all of it, but he was as powerless as Dan to do anything about it. It was just something that they’d come to expect every now and again. That didn’t make it less terrible, but still, Dan wasn’t this much of a wreck normally. He wore it as a badge of honor oftentimes, that no matter how hard he cracked the whip, his old man could never tame him. It was disturbing to see him so beat down about it. </p>
<p>“I got kicked out,” he grunted sardonically. “And it was bad.” </p>
<p>Chris’ heart sank. “Alright. I won’t ask any more questions if you don’t want me to.” </p>
<p>“Finally.” He forced out, trying to be his usual snippy self, but the word fell flat. </p>
<p>Chris took a risk and inched forward, brushing his greasy bangs out of his eyes. He smoothed the back of his hand to Dan’s forehead and ignoring the poisonous, offended stare he was given in response. His skin was clammy with sweat and made his own skin crawl a bit to touch, but he pressed on anyways.</p>
<p>“You’re warm.” He noted. He moved his hand to Dan’s cheek. “Were you already sick, or is this…?”</p>
<p>“I was in perfect health this morning.” He stated plainly. “Now, I’m almost positive I’m going to retch my own throat out. That answer your question?” His usually keen green eyes were cloudy and distracted, and it was clearly taking effort to speak without doing exactly that. </p>
<p>Chris ignored his venom, as he was already so used to doing. “Have you eaten anything at all today?”</p>
<p>Dan raised an eyebrow. “Who cares?” He deadpanned.</p>
<p>“First off, I obviously care, I asked.” Chris replied matter-of-factly. “Second, if you haven’t eaten anything all day, you might just need to eat something, and you’ll feel less nauseous.”</p>
<p>“You’re buying. And I am <em>not</em> getting up yet.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay. Take your time.”</p>
<p>Dan squeezed his eyes shut and breathed hard through his nose. Chris’ eyes wandered around, worriedly fixing on his shivering and the filthy damp spots on his jeans.</p>
<p>“Dan, I’m not sure if you should be sitting here.” He suggested warily. “I mean, you’re all wet, and I think you’re gonna get a cold, and- I mean, I’m not sure exactly what would help you right now, but you might feel hot, because you’re sick, and that’s gonna make it worse. You know what I mean?” </p>
<p>Dan grit his teeth and ran his hands through his hair, cradling his head. “Chris? <em>Please</em> shut up. Your words are like a jackhammer to the inside of my skull.”</p>
<p>“Let me see if I have ibuprofen in the car.” He replied quickly. He jumped to his feet and leaned over Dan into the passenger’s seat, rifling through the glove box until he heard the shaking of a pill bottle.</p>
<p>“Here you go.” He tossed Dan the bottle. He glared at the label, turning it around in his hands. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna throw these back up.” He declared. </p>
<p>“You say that like you’re going to on purpose.”</p>
<p>“It’s a warning. Step out of the splash zone.”</p>
<p>Chris rolled his eyes. “Gross.”</p>
<p>He took them dry before Chris had a chance to hand him one of the warm half-empty water bottles that was rolling around freely under his car seats. Dan snatched it from him and drank, then let it fall out of his hands and bounce off the pavement below. </p>
<p>“Why did you wear a black hoodie anyway, if you’re feeling so nauseous?” Chris asked. “It’s kinda warm.”</p>
<p>“I’m not binding.” Dan bit out. </p>
<p>Chris shifted uncomfortably, sensing there was more to it than that. “You know I don’t mind if you’re not binding around me. If you’re more comfortable with a hoodie though, I get it, just...”</p>
<p>“I would be binding if I could.” Dan clarified. “I left in a hurry.”</p>
<p>Chris sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but…” He trailed off. </p>
<p>Dan sighed shakily and raked a hand over his face. Chris’ eyes were shrewd enough to catch a new batch of tears rolling down his cheeks. </p>
<p>“I got into an argument with my parents.” He confessed, voice small.</p>
<p>Chris’ chest seized up tight, a vile snake forcibly squirming its way into his ribcage. “What about?”</p>
<p>“What <em>not</em> about? How I’m no good, just like my stupid junkie mother.” Dan hissed. “How I’ve got an attitude problem. It just makes me so-” His hands balled into tense, trembling fists, knuckles scraping against the asphalt. The dam was breaking. His voice was rising in volume, his body following suit, a familiar angry spark returning to his eyes.</p>
<p>“How am <em>I</em> the one with the problem for raising my voice back, when he’s the one screaming in my face first?” He yelled, gesturing violently. “How am I supposed to just sit there and, and, take that humiliating treatment? I lost it! How could I not?” He cried, lower lip quivering. Unthinkingly, Chris started to reach for him.  </p>
<p>“-And I know what you’re thinking.” He pointed a trembling finger in Chris’ face, making him jump back. “That’s just you, Dan, flying off the handle as usual- it’s not! I’m not-” His voice cracked, and his face went red. He hated crying. He hated crying in front of Chris especially. It just rubbed salt in the already humiliating wound, but he couldn’t shut off the floodgates. Everything he felt, he felt so damn strongly, and he was sick and tired of it, but that just threw more oil on the flames. </p>
<p>“I’m not an animal, Chris.” He squawked, more trying to convince himself than anything. “I’m in control of myself. Except, when I’m not, but- that doesn’t happen there. It <em>can’t</em> happen there. God, I just had to open my stupid mouth, didn’t I?” </p>
<p>“Was there any reason in particular they got so mad, or did things just explode?” Chris asked, desperately hoping to make sense of the situation. </p>
<p>“They talked politics, and I butted in. Like a complete and utter moron.” Dan admitted, burying his face in his hands. </p>
<p>Chris winced. “Yikes, okay, I see what happened.”</p>
<p>“Its my own stupid fault. I don’t know what I expected to happen.” He griped, fingers tightening in his hair and pulling. </p>
<p>“Dan, even if it's a touchy subject, you shouldn’t be treated like this because of it.” Chris insisted. “My folks argue too, but it never ends like this.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you just so lucky.” He muttered bitterly.</p>
<p>“That’s not what I meant. What I mean is, this isn’t okay. Normal, well adjusted people don’t act like this. You can’t blame yourself.” He affirmed.</p>
<p>Dan jolted upright suddenly, then swayed violently on his feet. “You’re right!” He shouted, arms flailing wildly. “It’s my stupid dad, my stupid mom, my good for nothing family that didn’t even want me!” He wailed. “Why the hell should I listen to two <em>whack jobs</em> who didn’t even have a whole brain in their skulls between the two of them? Two deadbeat, good for nothing <em>guttersnipes</em> who didn’t have the sense to abort the infernal offspring that ruined their miserable, worthless little lives! <em>They</em> were the ones who <em>spawned</em> me into existence, this is their mistake! They should’ve put a stop to this flaming train wreck before it had a chance to be born and turn into an even worse abomination! I didn’t ask for fucking <em>any</em> of this!” He was sobbing openly now, tears streaming down his face. </p>
<p>Dan was gritting his teeth so hard Chris was afraid they might crack. He gaped at him as he sank back down to his knees, fierce, angry words fading into weak, pitiful whimpers. “I hate this so much, Chris. I hate all of this.” He hiccuped, voice scratchy and ragged. “I can’t stand another second of any of this.” </p>
<p>His last words were a whisper. He turned to Chris, an intense, frenzied look in his eyes that was disturbingly unfamiliar. Dan was terrified. Terrified of his home, terrified of himself, backed up against the wall with nowhere to turn but even tighter corners.</p>
<p>“Dan,” His name escaped Chris breathlessly, but he had nothing else to back it up with. He just stared, slack jawed at his friend, who looked just as shocked as he was that those words just came out of his mouth. His eyes dropped to the pavement, stunned. He wilted, shoulders caving in on himself as tears kept coming. Chris couldn’t take it any longer. Against his better judgement, he threw his arms around Dan and hugged him tight. </p>
<p>Dan went limp in his arms, head sagging against his shoulder. Chris was trying his absolute damndest not to cry, instead directing all of his emotions out in his crushing hold on Dan. It wasn’t his turn to cry, he shouldn’t be so worked up when Dan was the one that had to go home to nothing but contempt and ridicule every day of his life. He really did try, he focused with all his being, squeezing his eyes shut so hard he saw stars. It was no use. His eyes finally ceased to be dry the second he felt Dan’s shaking hands delicately on his back, hesitantly returning the hug. </p>
<p>“Chris,” Dan croaked, voice muffled against his shirt. “Stop crying.”</p>
<p>“Only if you stop crying.” He replied defensively. It was a supremely dumb thing to say, but he was feeling pretty dumb about everything right about now. He felt like he didn’t know anything at all. It was scary, like looking off the face of a steep cliff. He was drowning in wrongness, betrayed to find there was no shore to be spared from the storm upon. The floor was falling out below the both of them, with nothing to hold onto but each other. </p>
<p>“You stop crying first.” Dan mumbled stubbornly, sniffling close to his ear. Then Chris was laughing. He was laughing so hard it knocked the wind out of him, and he had no clue why.   </p>
<p>“This is kind of insane, isn’t it? Like, who would’ve thought life would be this way at all? Chris mused, both amazed and outraged. “I’m hugging my friend on the ground in a dirty parking lot, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more emotions at once. How is any of this real?”</p>
<p>“This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve done in a parking lot, probably.” Dan conceded, gingerly sidestepping the topic of emotion despite being half of the emotional parking lot hug Chris was talking about in the first place.</p>
<p>“Where are we, even?” Chris wondered, craning his neck over Dan’s head to peer at the neon sign on the front of the closest building. </p>
<p>“Grocery store, I think.” Dan answered, turning to squint at the sign himself. “Some craphole budget shopping place.” Chris shrugged, and Dan tensed a little, unused to being so lightly displaced by someone else’s movements.</p>
<p>“Hey, Dan, are you still nauseous?” He asked, loosening his hold a little bit. Dan squirmed a little bit, turning away a fraction, but settled begrudgingly against his shoulder, back to his chest. Slowly, he was able to ignore the incessant alarm chemicals firing in his brain that shrieked of physical threat. Sickly warm embarrassment, however, still lingered, sticking to his cheeks as he allowed his friend to hold him like some delicate object. </p>
<p>“A little.” He answered, purposely indirect. </p>
<p>“You think you can stand? I have an idea.” </p>
<p>Dan reluctantly removed himself from his shoulder and faced him, then crossed his arms snugly against his chest, hurriedly remembering his pride. “What’s your idea?” He asked coolly, lifting his chin and clearing the gravel from his throat. </p>
<p>“Let’s go in, and get as much junk food as we can carry.” He proposed, unable to hide his excitement. </p>
<p>“You have such a one track mind, Chris.” Dan chided half heartedly, but it was clear the idea improved his mood too, if only a little bit.</p>
<p>“Well, what’s a sleepover without tons of garbage that’s terrible for you?” He argued, his bouncy cheeriness returning. </p>
<p>Dan’s face went blank for a second, and then twisted into a confused half-smile.</p>
<p>“Sleepover?” He repeated hopefully.</p>
<p>“Well, you’re not going home, are you?” Chris pointed out. </p>
<p>Dan scoffed. “Hell no. I’m sure my dad’s waiting out front, just primed and ready to wring my neck.”</p>
<p>“<em>So,</em> you’re gonna stay over, right?” Chris grinned eagerly at him.</p>
<p>“I suppose I could.” He replied warily. “What happened to ‘my mom doesn’t like you’?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that.” Chris corrected. “I said she wants you to pay me gas money, but I know why you don’t. I mean, she might not like it because it's a school night and everything, but honestly, I don’t care. I could easily sneak you upstairs with me, they’re probably in bed by now.” He theorized, noting how black the sky had grown since they’d arrived. </p>
<p>“But what about school tomorrow? I wasn’t gonna go.” Dan countered gloomily, certain there’d be some catch that would ruin the nice thought that was staying at Chris’ place tonight. </p>
<p>“Then… maybe I won’t go either.” Chris offered mischievously, elbowing him lightly.  </p>
<p>It felt like ten pounds lifted off Chris’ shoulders when Dan turned and beamed up at him. “You’re seriously gonna skip class with me? You never wanna skip class!”</p>
<p>Chris bounded to his feet, pulling Dan up with him. “Just this once!” He whispered excitedly. “And don’t tell a <em>soul!</em>” He pleaded, holding up a finger in front of his crooked, dopey smile. </p>
<p>Dan smirked impishly, pursing his lips in mock consideration. “Only if you bribe me with oreos.” </p>
<p>Chris raised an eyebrow. “You can have those?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, right?” Dan agreed. “I didn’t know for a long time, but they’re totally dairy-free. And vegan too, apparently, but who cares?”</p>
<p>Chris laughed warmly, shaking him excitedly by the shoulders. “Then let’s get some! I’m not sure how much money I have on me, but we could get some chips and soda too, probably.”</p>
<p>“Psh, it doesn’t matter how much money you have.” Dan scoffed. ”What matters is you wouldn’t believe how much I can carry in these pockets.” He lifted his discarded hoodie and smirked devilishly. </p>
<p>“Dan,” Chris warned, watching Dan haphazardly throw it on and stuff his hands in his pockets. “Just let me pay. I think we’ve both had enough excitement tonight. I don’t want to get kicked out of a grocery store on top of that.”</p>
<p>“No promises. I do like the idea of you paying though.” He conceded, leaning into his friend’s side as they started their trek to the store entrance. </p>
<p>Chris couldn’t imagine how they looked to the scant few workers littered around the store as they passed through the automatic front doors of the building. There was some young girl around his age by one of the cash registers, eyes glazed over as she grimaced blankly into space. There was also an older gentleman stacking cans near the back, and a middle aged lady with a French manicure behind one of the help desk counters, but it felt as though they were alone. It was sort of liberating, knowing there were wandering eyes that could rove across them at any point and not really give a damn about them either which way. It was sort of magical, Chris thought, in a simple and sort of naive way. He wondered if these strange in between hours that were so quickly lost to time felt as exceptionally fleeting to the store workers that unknowingly bore witness to them. </p>
<p>Would any of them recall, if only for a moment, the images they were seeing in front of their eyes right this second at some point later tonight? Would one stop and ponder how odd those two boys had been, appearing at a late stroke of a Sunday night, grinning ear to ear with stuffy noses and red-rimmed eyes? Chris hoped they thought it as amusing as he did, that two scruffy little vagrants wandered into their store by chance, both determined and tear stained, happy and pissed off and dissatisfied all at once, but somehow triumphant on top of it all because they were there together, despite everything. There was a passionate, youthful flame ignited behind sore, stinging eyes, an agreeable and unifying spite that had them laughing victoriously as they ran wild, lining their pockets with candy and firecrackers. </p>
<p>For a few glorious minutes in a store they’d likely never return to, they were in perfect sync, sick to their guts and on top of the world, heads and hearts pounding, simultaneously stronger and weaker than they’ve ever felt in their entire lives. Chris could start crying all over again, realizing just how little he saw Dan smile as  before opposed to watching him right now, laughing until he choked, clinging to the front of a shopping cart as they raced through the isles. The red in his cheeks and the bags under his eyes seemed to vanish every time his face lit up. It was a delightfully contagious glow, and Chris found himself closing his eyes in its brightness, leaning against his friend to better feel its warmth. He was giddy and dizzy and felt as though a scream might tear from his throat at any point, but he didn’t want it to end. </p>
<p>They left in a whirlwind of excitement as fast as they’d come, and he couldn’t remember if he’d paid by the time they were piling their treasure back into the car. He didn’t care at all, not when Dan was bouncing next to him in the passenger’s seat, radio cranked up to eleven, singing off-key to some terrible garage rock song Chris had never heard before in his life. They went back a different way than they came, riding on a beautiful wave of noise, driving in circles to nowhere until their voices got sore. </p>
<p>At some point the windows were rolled down and Dan’s head had disappeared out the sunroof, hollering defiantly out into the night. Wind whipped through Chris’ hair, the last cold bites of the spring air having given way into the exciting hint of summer warmth on the horizon. Suddenly, staring down that cliff drop of the future wasn’t so horrible. Wherever he’d end up was fine, as long as he had car keys and his friend in the passenger’s seat. Nobody, not Dan’s crummy folks or waking up for school on Monday could take this away, not if either of them had anything to say about it. It would take nothing short of the end of the world to pry Dan from him, and even then, what was every teenager on earth bracing themselves for if not the end of all things? They were ready for whatever could possibly be thrown their way, and they wouldn’t take a second of it lying down. </p>
<p>“Hey, Dan!” Chris shouted over the wall of sound between them. Dan’s head poked back down into view, hands still rested over his head on the roof of the car.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” He replied just as loudly, instead of reaching for the radio dial. </p>
<p>“You think we could do this forever?” Chris asked vaguely, caught up in some adrenaline fueled daydream he couldn’t exactly put into proper words.</p>
<p>Dan looked at him, puzzled. “I dunno, I think my ears might hurt after a while.”</p>
<p>Chris threw his head back and laughed, finally turning knob and lowering the volume. “Not the music, I mean, being friends.”</p>
<p>Dan thought for a moment, then playfully pinched his arm. “Don’t think you can get off that easy! You said friends for life, I’m holding you to that.” </p>
<p>“You sure?” Chris teased. “Aren’t I just a little bit of a pain in the ass?”</p>
<p>“I think I should be asking you that.” Dan flopped back down into his seat, closing the sunroof. “I’m the reason you’re out here on a precious Sunday night. I know how you feel about those” </p>
<p>“I couldn’t possibly think of a better way to spend it.” Chris declared. </p>
<p>“Liar.” Dan chided. </p>
<p>“Okay, yeah, I totally wanted to be asleep by now.” Chris admitted sheepishly. “But this was fun, even if it wasn’t supposed to be.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s not over yet my good Chris.” Dan challenged, an evil glint in his eye. “Do you, by chance, still have your GameCube set up in your room?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, but I think I need to grab another controller from the basement, unless you want the sticky one.” He grimaced, shaking his head at the thought. “Why?”</p>
<p>“<em>Because,</em> we haven’t had Melee night in months and I’ve been missing absolutely wiping the floor with you.” He sneered, poking him sharply in the side.</p>
<p>“Hey, driving!” Chris smacked his hand away, but was smiling nonetheless. “And didn’t I win last time?”</p>
<p>“Cheating. Interference. It didn’t count. I don’t remember.” Dan argued feebly. </p>
<p>“Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that, but next time I win I’m not letting you leave until you admit you lost.” Chris decided.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s fine by me because it's never going to happen.” Dan maintained, turning up his nose and folding his hands primly in his lap. “I can crush you at anything, anytime. I am the superior male specimen. Anything you can do, I can do so much better it’d make you look like a moron for even trying.” He taunted. </p>
<p>“You’re on, but I am dead serious.” Chris informed him. “I’ll actually hold you upside down until you say the words, ‘you won, Chris, you won and I lost’ out loud.” He mocked, in his best Dan impression. </p>
<p>“Do that I <em>will</em> bite you.” He warned, baring his teeth for emphasis.  </p>
<p>Chris snorted. “I’m gonna muzzle you one of these days, I swear.” </p>
<p>“What a sore loser.” Dan commented, mockingly shaking his head. </p>
<p>Chris finally pulled onto the street his home was on, and it was not long until his headlights shone onto his familiar driveway. Nearly all the lights in the house were off, thankfully, but someone had left the outside light on for him when he returned. He parked the car and shut it off, stretching and twirling the keyring on one finger. He turned to see Dan yawning beside him, and he immediately caught the yawn as well. </p>
<p>“So,” he sighed calmly, opening the door and uncramping his legs. “Smash?”</p>
<p>“Actually, I think I might pass out.” Dan replied sleepily. </p>
<p>“That works.” Chris nodded. “Grab some stuff out of the back. Everyone’s probably asleep, but we should still be quiet.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” Dan mumbled, lazily following behind him.</p>
<p>Bags of junk in each hand and every pocket, the two hopped up the front steps. Chris turned the knob of the front door as soundlessly as possible, wincing as it creaked on his hinges. He allowed Dan to slip inside first, ducking under his outstretched arm. He followed suit, locking up carefully behind them, remembering at the last second to shut off the outside light. </p>
<p>“Did you really make yourself cookies before you left?” Dan whispered, sounding equal parts disbelieving and amused.  </p>
<p>Chris looked to where he was standing, in the entryway to the kitchen. There was, in fact, a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen table that definitely hadn’t been there before.</p>
<p>“I didn’t make them. I guess my mom did.” Chris figured, just as confused as Dan. </p>
<p>He shrugged. “Well, you can grab some, but you know me. I’m gonna just go on ahead.”</p>
<p>Dan scooted past him, hovering around the base of the stairs but not actually going up. Chris inched over to the table, looking around for any sight of his parents still lingering around downstairs. He grabbed a couple of napkins from the little decorative napkin holder in the center of the table, and piled a handful of cookies onto them. He was pleased to find they were still pretty warm. </p>
<p>Chris was about to turn and hurry to join Dan, but something caught his eye. He paused. Tucked beneath the plate was a folded piece of paper. </p>
<p>He swallowed, unfolding it hastily. He had to squint to make it out in the dark, but he could clearly recognize his mothers swirly handwriting anywhere. </p>
<p>
  <em>Hey kiddo,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We’re going to head on up to bed now, but I figured I’d might as well leave something for you to snack on when you get back. I’m not sure what time you’ll be getting home, but please remember to shut off the outside lights + return keys to the bowl. There’s still milk left in the fridge if you want, but PLEASE don’t forget the glass in your room overnight! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Love, Mom.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>P.S. - Please let Danny know I didn’t use any butter in the cookies. :)</em>
</p>
<p>His jaw fell to the floor. Moms must all just have some kind of crazy psychic powers, that was the only explanation he could think of. There was no way she could’ve known, was there? He was as cryptic and nonspecific as possible, giving her just enough reassurance that he absolutely <em>did</em> have a good reason to go out so suddenly on a school night. He was certain he never mentioned Dan, let alone revealed he was going out to meet another person at all. Dumbfounded, he piled the cookies back onto the plate, instead grabbing the whole thing to take up with him. </p>
<p>“Jesus, Chris, are you really bringing all of those? We have like, ten pounds of junk food already.” Dan remarked, voice hushed as Chris reappeared from the kitchen.</p>
<p>“They’re for you too. Come on.” Chris ushered him up the stairs one handed, wanting to duck into the safety of his room as soon as possible.</p>
<p>Dan looked him up and down, nonplussed. “Uh, hello? Lactose?” </p>
<p>“They’re fine, now let's go.” Chris assured him.</p>
<p>Despite Dan’s confused protests, Chris whisked him to the top of the stairs, finally reaching sanctuary within his bedroom.</p>
<p>“What’s up with the cookies?” Dan demanded, the very instant the door closed behind them. “Are you trying to poison me? Because you’re not doing a very good job.”</p>
<p>“No, it's just, my mom somehow figured me out.” </p>
<p>Dan’s face dropped. “What?”</p>
<p>“She somehow knew it was you. The reason I left. I didn’t tell her, but, somehow she knew.” </p>
<p>Dan faltered, eyes darting to the door in a panic.</p>
<p>“It's okay though!” He quickly assured him. “Apparently. She wrote me a note to lock up and stuff, and said to tell you the cookies were lactose-free.” He explained, handing the note to Dan. </p>
<p>He snatched it from his hands and squinted suspiciously at the words. “Huh. Chris, I hate to break it to you, but your mom may have wiretapped your room.” He muttered grimly, returning the paper to his hands.  </p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Dan. She’s just got that mom sixth-sense thing going on. Either that or I really am that predictable.”</p>
<p>“You are kind of predictable.” Dan agreed.</p>
<p>“What makes you say that?” Chris asked, a touch offended. </p>
<p>“Well, I knew you’d get me if I called. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered.” Dan explained nonchalantly, depositing crinkled plastic bags on his dresser. </p>
<p>“I think the word you’re looking for is dependable, not predictable.” Chris corrected.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, tomato, potato.” He grumbled, waving a hand. “The point, is thank you.”</p>
<p>Chris froze, thinking for a second he’d heard him wrong. A grin split across his face. Dan shot him a warning glance, expecting some sort of teasing.</p>
<p>“You’re very welcome, Dan.” He replied genuinely instead, satisfied he’d gotten real, actual thanks from his friend. </p>
<p>Dan’s face flushed. He swiftly grabbed a cookie from the plate and turned on his heel, slinking to the far side of Chris’ bed. “Whatever.” He deflected. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up early and I’ll kill you.” </p>
<p>“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Chris obliged. “I’m beat.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Dan mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, throwing aside the blankets to Chris’ bed and depositing himself within.</p>
<p>“Goodnight Dan.” Chris called gently, putting the plate of cookies down on his nightstand and flicking off the lights. “I’m glad you’re here.”</p>
<p>“Night.” Dan replied, short and sweet, and Chris flopped down beside him. </p>
<p>Dan had decided to curl up on the side Chris liked to sleep on, but he didn’t actually know that. It was fine with him, though. It kind of brought all the weirdness of the night together perfectly. Well, weird probably wasn’t the right word, but rather, unexpected. His mom suddenly didn’t care if he snuck a friend over on a school night, said friend was actually sleeping over a few inches away from him right now, peaceful and unguarded like he’d never seen before. It was oddly fitting, to be laying a little further to the left than he was used to, just enough for him to notice the change. He was charged up and exhausted at the same time, depleted of his energy but eagerly taking in everything he could about this moment. He was determined to keep this memory intact; the homey smell of somewhat freshly baked cookies, the quiet breathing of his friend nearby, the slight dip in the bed from the weight of an added person. It was one of those strange out of place memories that could easily vanish from his mind a day later if he wasn’t careful, so careful he was, counting everything special he could think of around him until he fell asleep. </p>
<p>As meticulous as he was, Chris forgot one crucial detail of the night before he faded into a dream. A drowsy hand unthinkingly groped for more blankets, instead landing on the warm shoulder of his slumbering friend. Somewhere in his distant mind, Chris recognized that warmth, and gave him a firm pat on the back before rolling back into unconsciousness. A tiny detail, but a detail nonetheless. Luckily for Chris, the memory was securely preserved in the mind of another, who would not so soon forget. </p>
<p>Dan would hold onto that memory, an ephemeral moment mixed with the cadence of a dream, clinging to it like a life preserver for years to come. He’d never say it out loud, but it lingered always in the back of his mind somewhere, stirring a special sort of fond nostalgia every time he called up in need of another ride home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good evening Dan Vs. fandom :)</p>
<p>Soooo quarantine has got me watching tons of shows I never got around to before, and by some stroke of luck I decided to rewatch Dan Vs., having caught bits and pieces of it at a friend's house as a kid. This show is criminally underrated, and seeing how little writing there was in the fandom space I HAD to contribute something. This is very much projecting and I apologize for that, but I hope you like it anyway XD</p>
<p>Just a few notes on the liberties I took; yeah, I know I sort of switched what little we know about Dan's mom and dad's role in his life. The wiki was pretty vague and not much was revealed within the show aside from a few throwaway jokes, so using my own life situation as a guide solidified the story I wanted to convey much better. I remember reading something along the lines of Dan's dad abandoning him at a young age and his mom being cold and neglectful, which if you switch the genders that's my life, so yeah, I tweaked that a little bit. I also placed the timeframe around the early 2000's, which assumes Dan and Chris are around 25 during the events of the show, since their real ages are unclear. Plus, I thought it would be pretty funny if they were in high school in that timeframe, during the glorious height of evanesence and ugly low-rise jeans.</p>
<p>The base story of getting kicked out is also directly ripped from my life, unfortunately, though everything about the way it happened was original. Unlike Dan, I sort of have an underdeveloped rage response, and I figured writing about a situation like this through his eyes would be a healthy way to express the feelings I never really unpacked about it. I won't get too into it here, but I've been kicked out a fair few times in my adolescent years, the worst instance of which being sort of recently, about a half a year ago now. Protests swept through my town, and everyone was really charged about it, including me, who was terrified knowing I had friends at the front lines. My dad made some passing racist comment, and I just lost it. One screaming match later, I was on the street, begging for a friend of mine to pick me up and take me far, far away. </p>
<p>I never let myself be angry in the aftermath of everything, and I guess it makes sense, so that's why I'm here now. I think I have a pretty good reason to hold onto that, and there's no harm in expressing it creatively. Writing this was nice, especially because I had control over how things went, and was able to give it a pleasant ending as opposed to how things actually went down for me. So, personal feelings aside, I hope this resonates with some of you guys like me out there, who have had a rough go of it in life, or at the very least was interesting and entertaining. </p>
<p>Comments and Kudos always appreciated, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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